We were the greatest
by TamaraJagellovsk
Summary: Is Sara O'Neill still here? Kind of a tag to Cold Lazarus
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The opening scene was taken from CD57's story "Return to Hell". Thank you Corine for your kind permission. From there the muse took me somewhere else than I had originally planned to go...what a diva that muse is.**

**A few lines are from the episode "Cold Lazarus" - they were just too good not to be used.**

**The rest is mine, and therefor Jack might be OOC. I am aware of that and do it on purpose. Just because I can. :-)**

~o0o~

Some time before the start of the series – and before the movie, too.

"Charlie!"  
>The seven-year-old boy ran away, angry, not wanting to greet his father who'd just come home from one of his missions. O'Neill had been gone for three weeks and had just missed another important event that had taken place at Charlie's school, the grand finale, a baseball game in which Charlie had been the pitcher of the winning team.<br>"Give him some time, honey. He'll come through," Sara said softly,  
>letting one hand run gently through her husband's hair. She knew the man she loved had tried his best to be back in time, but once more was<br>unable to make it. She also knew how utterly disappointed Charlie had been, and this time she had not been able to calm the young boy, to explain for the umpteenth time how important his father's work was and how unpredictable it was for him to tell them when he would be back. She never ever allowed herself to express her worry, her fear of not knowing  
>if her husband would come back at all.<br>He had been looking forward to a hug from his kid so much. The angry words he got instead hurt him, cutting through his soul. O'Neill  
>couldn't even blame his son. The boy was right, once again telling him in unmistakable words that he had needed his father to be there for him when, of course, he had been doing more important stuff he wasn't even supposed to talk about.<br>Sighing heavily he grabbed his wife's hand and squeezed it tenderly. "I hope so," he said, the emotional pain straining his voice. "I should have been there..."  
>"What's really important is that you are here now," Sara reasoned. "I know you wanted to be back in time for the game, Jack. There will be other games."<br>He embraced her, silently thanking her for her moral support. That was Sara for you; never blaming him for not being there, never complaining and even trying to tell him it was all right. He knew it hurt her,  
>though. More than she would ever admit to him. He'd been thinking so hard to find a way to make it up to her, and to Charlie. He hadn't told them yet, but he was considering leaving the Forces, finding another job within the Air Force with more reasonable working hours and less danger. He needed to be with his family, instead of crawling through Lord knew<br>what deserts in hostile countries, retrieving important items or getting important people out of places no normal human being would believe existed.  
>"I'm going to find him," he said as he got up, intent on searching for his son.<br>"Charlie!"

~o0o~

"Charlie?"

There was no answer from his son's room.

"Charlie, I know you're angry and I understand that. But can we please talk about it?"

When Charlie still didn't answer Jack opened the door but didn't go in. His son had thrown himself on his bed facing away from the door. Slowly Jack walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You don't have to say anything, but let me at least try to explain, OK?"

Still no reaction. Jack took a breath.

"I know you were waiting for me - "

"You promised!"

There wasn't really anything he could say to that. He _had_ promised, hoping to god he would be able to keep the promise this time. But again the mission had caused him to fail his son. How should he explain that, unable – and unwilling – to talk about the details of that mission. Very softly he went on:

"Yes. I did. And I am very sorry that I couldn't keep my promise."

Charlie turned and looked at his dad.

"Why?"

"Why couldn't I keep the promise?"

The boy just nodded, still not sure if he even wanted to talk to his dad.

"Do you remember what I told you? About what I do?"

"You have to get the bad guys?"

Jack smiled.

"Yeah, exactly. And sometimes the bad guys are hard to get."

"Did they hide?"

Jack smiled again. Quite close to the truth actually.

"Yes, they did. We had to wait for them to come out. I _knew_ it was time for your game and that I should be home, but I couldn't leave until we were done. Can you understand that?"

Charlie nodded again. Deadly serious he added:

"Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

~o0o~

The same night, when Charlie was fast asleep, Jack and Sara sat on the couch.

"He's no longer mad at you, is he?", Sara asked and looked at her husband. He put his arm around he shoulder and pulled her close.

"No. He isn't."

He took a sip of his beer.

"What about you?"

Sara moved away from him enough to look at him.

"Me?"

"Are _you_ mad at me?"

"For missing his game?"

Jack removed his arm and picked at the label of his beer.

"For never being there. For leaving you alone with everything. For not talking about the job."

Sara turned towards him and pulled her legs up on the couch. She gently touched his face.

"I knew what I'd get when I married you, Jack. I love you, and I trust you. Does it kill me not to know where you are, how long you'll be gone, whether you'll make it back in one piece? Yes! It does! Am I terrified by your injuries, by your scars and by that look in your eyes that you sometimes have when you come back? Am I scared of that call, of those USAF officers knocking on my door, telling me you're...Yes! I am! Still it's what you do, and obviously you're very good at it. So, no, I'm not mad at you. I just miss you like hell sometimes..."

She looked lost and sad, and he loved her so much it physically hurt. He put down his beer and reached out to his wife, cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, deeply, tenderly, full of gratitude and affection. When they broke apart he said:

"I've been thinking. On that last mission, when I realized I wouldn't make it to Charlie's game – again – I made a decision. I'll get another assignment. Things will change. I'll be there for you and Charlie."

Sara hesitated for a moment.

"Are you sure?"

"What? I thought you'd be thrilled!"

"Well I am! It would be amazing to have you home more, not to fear for your life every time you leave - "

"I hear a 'but' coming?"

"But", she smiled a half smile, "would you be happy with another assignment?"

"Are you kidding me? It's not exactly pleasant were they keep sending me off to!"

"Yeah I imagine...but be honest with yourself. You're good at what you're doing. I'm sure there are aspects you like about those missions. Aren't you going to miss these things?"

He gave it a moment's thought and then he smiled at his smart and insightful wife. Had he told her how much he loved her recently?

"I will be fine, Sara. Just tell me if you want this."

Instead of an actual answer she just kissed him, and when he still seemed to need an answer she softly said:

"Of course I want this."

~o0o~

A few days later Jack O'Neill's life fell apart. After all those bullets from all those weapons, one bullet from his personal gun ended everything that had been good in his life.

He could still hear the echo of that shot days after his son had been buried. He didn't remember if he had cried at the funeral. All he remembered where_ Sara's _tears, out of control, unstoppable, and how he had been completely unable to do anything about them. He knew he was supposed to take care of her, give her some comfort, but all he could think of was that he was to blame. His son, their son was dead because he hadn't kept him safe. How she could even stand to be near him was beyond him. Probably she was still too shocked to realize that it had been his fault. Once she would wrap her mind around it she would surely yell at him, blame him, maybe she would just stop talking to him. And he needed her so badly. He longed for her to take away his pain, to hold him, to caress him, but how could he ask that of her.

Sara was frozen stiff, paralyzed by the most horrible loss any mother can suffer. At the funeral she had cried so hard, her soul bleeding. Jack had been standing at her side, staring at the tomb of their son. He couldn't have been further apart from her had he been overseas. Ever since the doctor at the hospital had told them that there had been nothing he could do, Jack and Sara O'Neill lived on two different continents. Hers was freezing cold, a hostile, lonely place. His was a burning hell of guilt, and he knew he deserved to be there. He sat in Charlie's room for hours, gun in hand. That damn gun that shouldn't have been at the house, should have been locked away, shouldn't have been loaded. The gun that ripped his son from his life. The one person he had been more responsible for than for any man under his command, more than for any mission objective. The one person he should have kept safe. A little boy who'd never laugh again, never grow up. He was lost because his father had failed him, again, one final, fatal time.

Jack sat on his son's bed once more when General West's men came to tell him he had been reactivated. It took him some time to process his orders. They seemed to belong to another man from another life. But finally he pulled himself together. By getting his hair cut and putting on his uniform he became USAF Colonel Jonathan Jack O'Neill again, mask firmly in place, determined to focus on the task at hand, and if necessary to give his life for the mission. Actually there was a pretty good chance he might die out there, and that was just fine with him. That way he wouldn't have to put his own gun to his head. By the time he stepped through that gate his wife's continent was so far away from his own that he couldn't even see her, let alone guess whether she would care if he came home or not.


	2. Chapter 2

After the movie.

He just couldn't believe that he had made it back from that mission alive. He had a brief notion of relief, but other than that he just couldn't bring himself to feel anything. He had debriefed, he had left the base, and then he was on his way home. Only it didn't feel like going home. Their house had felt empty and dead ever since – that day. They had talked about selling it once, about moving, but neither had been able to muster the energy to take any steps or to even make a decision. So he drove home, but he took his time. He felt bad for being dull and indifferent. He used to rush home to greet his wife and son, happy to join them, eager to hear their voices. Now his son was gone and his wife probably didn't care that much if he came home at all, let alone at what time. When he finally made it, the house was dark. It felt even less like home than the last time. His key turned in the door, twice? Obviously Sara had better things to do than to wait for him. 'OK, now, O'Neill, that's not fair and you know it. How could she have known you were coming?' Still he was disappointed. He dropped his keys and turned on the light. On the kitchen table he noticed a single sheet of paper. Even from the distance he could tell it was Sara's handwriting. All of a sudden he couldn't breathe, and he had to grab the back of a chair to steady himself. He just knew.

She was gone. He had lost both his son _and _his wife, and both were his fault. He had been a lousy father, and when that damage had been done he turned out to be a lousy husband as well.

He sat on Charlie's bed again, and he held his gun again. He thought back to all the times in his life when he had been desperate, missions gone wrong, comrades lost, injuries, prison, interrogation, torture. He had survived it all, had gotten out of it, sometimes completely on his own, had stubbornly refused to give up. Because Sara had been there, waiting for him. Beautiful, smart, loving him for whatever reason. Now she couldn't stand to be with him, and he couldn't blame her. She wanted their marriage to be over, to be rid of him, and he still needed her like mad.

He agreed to the divorce and left their house to Sara, and then he embraced his new job with all the energy he could muster, spending as much time as possible in the mountain when he wasn't off-world. Who needed a life anyway?

~o0o~

When the trip to that sand planet went FUBAR, the worst part was to find out Sara was involved. He went into full soldier mode the moment he heard her voice on her answering machine.

~o0o~

Running down the hospital hallway he ordered:

"Everybody out! I need everybody out of here now! Let's go!"

And there she was. Sara stared at him in disbelief.

"Jack?"

He grabbed her shoulders and looked at her very closely.

"Sara? Are you all right?"

She was obviously confused, so he pulled her in a hug and whispered:

"It's me. This is me, baby."*

~o0o~

Later, when the situation was under control, there was time for another hug. He almost missed her voice when she breathed against his neck: "We were pretty great together, weren't we?"

But he did hear her, and he had the good sense to answer.

"We were the greatest."**

He did not hear what she said after he had left with the being that looked like their dead son.

~o0o~

*** That's canon! He actually did call her "baby"!** **** And that's canon, too. That's the line that kinda made me a Jack/Sara shipper. For the moment. :-) **


	3. Chapter 3

After the credits roll on "Cold Lazarus".

Jack took another sip of his beer, wondering for the umpteenth time if he should call her. He still owed her an explanation, but he wasn't sure what to say. Hammond had refused him permission to tell her the truth, but he just _had _to give her something. And if he was honest with himself, he _wanted _to talk to her. She had felt good in his arms. Holding her had forced him to realize that after more than a year he was still far from being over her. He longed to hold her again. 'Stop it, O'Neill. Why would she want that?' He had just given her another reason to be mad at him, and if he tried to talk to her all he was allowed to give her was the same old 'classified information' line he had used on her all those years. God she must have hated that. The bottle was empty and he got up to get another one when he realized he was probably already too drunk to talk to his ex-wife. He'd do it in the morning, sober and focused. She deserved more than a drunken phone call in the middle of the night.

The next morning he did try to call Sara but couldn't reach her. He certainly didn't feel like leaving a message, so he drove to the SGC, planning on trying again later. It turned out to be a busy day and by the time his shift ended he still hadn't talked to her. He decided to drop by her house – their house, that now was hers – but when he reached the street he wasn't so sure if she would appreciate that. He sat in his car for a while, then he took a deep breath and reached for his phone.

"O'Neill?"

It was weird to hear her say that. His name. Their name. He didn't quite understand why she still used it. Probably after all the papers that ended their marriage were signed she just hadn't felt like more paperwork.

"Hello?"

Oh, right, he should probably say something. He cleared his throat.

"Hi. It's me."

Great line, O'Neill. He inhaled to add his name when she spoke again.

"Jack?"

Was it him or did she sound – happy? - to hear his voice? Her tone had been soft, and there was affection in the way she said his name. Almost like she used to do back in those happy times...focus on the task at hand, O'Neill.

"Yeah, it's me. I was wondering – do you think we could talk?"

There was a brief silence, and he noticed how tense he was while he waited for her answer.

"Yeah, sure. Where are you?"

"Uh, to be honest I'm parked in front of your house. I wanted to come by, but then I realized you might not exactly be thrilled by that, so -"

He could hear her let out a sigh. Crap. She felt like he was stalking her.

"Just get in, Jack. It's getting pretty cold out there."

What? She was concerned he might be cold? Well, he _was, _but -

"Jack?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm comin'."

He pressed the button and slipped his phone into his pocket. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly uncomfortable and even more tense than he had been before. This was so not a good idea. But then again Sara had sounded friendly and not mad at all. Maybe – oh get the hell going, O'Neill!

When she opened the door he could tell that she had recently been crying, again. His fault, again. She stepped back to let him in. The smile she gave him was a little shaky, but genuine.

"Are you OK, Jack?"

"Uh - actually I came to ask _you _that question."

"Jack, I saw what happened to you – but then again I guess it wasn't you, right? Though I really don't understand how that can be possible...and then there was Charlie, and -"

Jack lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Sara. He – it – I thought it was a good thing for you to see him one last time – probably I screwed up big time there."

Sara smiled and shook her head.

"No, you didn't. Whatever it was that I saw it looked like our son. I could touch him one last time, and it moved me to the core. I'm grateful for that, Jack. About all the rest – I just wish I understood what happened. But I was told it was a matter of national security. That certainly rang a bell."

She went towards her living room and gestured for him to come with her. They sat down, and he sighed. He forced himself to look straight at her.

"Look, Sara, I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry you got involved. And above all I'm sorry I'm not allowed to talk to you about it. Just like back then."

There was a brief silence, and then Sara spoke up.

"I'm sorry, too, Jack. I'm sorry I left you like that. I should have talked to you instead of just – disappearing. But I couldn't. I was hurting so badly. You accepted that mission, and I just couldn't believe you left me behind like that. Only after you were gone I realized it was your way to escape from our life, to get away from everything that reminded you of Charlie. Away from me. I didn't have that chance. I was stuck in our house, a dead place with no life in it, with no sound, completely on my own."

Her voice trailed off. From all the things she had just confessed three words had struck him like a physical blow.

"Away from you? Why would I have wanted to get away from you?"

"I don't know. You tell me?"

"Sara, me going on that mission wasn't about you, or us. It was an order. I went back on active duty."

"Not talking to me about it. Again."

He briefly closed his eyes.

"I couldn't, Sara. It was -"

"Please don't say 'classified'".

Which was exactly what it had been. So he didn't say anything. After a while she went on:

"I had seen you like that before. When you came home from Iraq, you had been that distant, too. But back then I was whole, and sane, and I could take it. I could be there for you. God, I wish I could have been there for you again, but I just wasn't strong enough. I'm sorry I didn't help you, Jack."

His head jerked up.

"Are you kidding me? How could I have expected _you _to help _me?"_

"Well maybe because that's what we promised each other in our vows?"

"But I wasn't worth it, Sara. After Iraq you were incredible. You saved me. But after Charlie I just didn't deserve you to help me. It was my fault, Sara. It was my gun...you didn't wanna put up with me anymore – couldn't, probably, needed to be rid of me, and I understood that. I can't blame you. I came home and you were gone. I knew what was in that letter before I started reading. We had lost Charlie, which had been my fault, and now I had lost you. Which was my fault as well. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Jack, just -"

She made a sound that was pure frustration.

"Once and for all, I did _not_ blame you for Charlie's death. It was an accident, and it was horrible. For both of us. Did you have _anyone _to talk to?"

When he didn't say anything she had her answer.

"Oh my god, Jack, don't tell me you were completely alone with this?"

"Who did _you _talk to?"

"Well there was my dad, and one of my friends became pretty close. I even stayed at her place for a while. Oh and I tried a support group for grieving parents once. But you are telling me you just locked it all away and dealt with it _on your own?"_

"You know me, Sara. Never been much of a talker. And – hell, who should I have talked to?"

That was true, and it was incredibly sad. All of a sudden Sara felt drawn to Jack, but she hesitated.

"Can I – hug you?"

He couldn't stand the vulnerability in her eyes. But he couldn't move, nor could he say anything. The moment passed, and something in the air had changed. Sara drew back. She cleared her throat.

"Well maybe you'd better leave."

It cut through him like a knife, but he just nodded and got up.


	4. Chapter 4

**To "guest": Thanx for your kind words! I hope you will like this chapter as well.**

He sat in his car outside her house again. Somehow he had just managed to be thrown out by the woman who had first left and then divorced him. Could he do any worse? All of a sudden he felt so tired he wasn't sure if he could drive. And he felt more lonely than he had for a very long time. Sara had been right, as always. He had lost his son, his wife had left him, and there hadn't been a single person he would have wanted to talk to about all of that. Pathetic, O'Neill. Before he had time to reconsider he pulled his phone from his pocket. Daniel picked up almost immediately.

"Jack?"

"Yeah. Listen, Daniel, could I come over?"

"Now? Well, yeah, sure. What's up?"

"Just – I just..."

Wow, this sounded bad.

"OK, where are you? You want me to pick you up?"

Jack seriously considered that for a moment, but decided he didn't want to leave his car in front of Sara's house.

"No, that's OK. I'll drive. Thanks, Daniel."

~o0o~

When Daniel opened the door his worries were confirmed. Jack looked like crap. Without saying anything the two men went into the living room and sat down.

"I'm afraid I don't have any beer, so -"

"That's OK, I don't suppose I should be drinking right now."

Ow?

"OK, so what happened?"

It took some time. Finally Jack said:

"I went to see Sara."

"OK? I take it that didn't go too well?"

"Well, actually it went better than I thought. First. But I managed to screw up again."

"OK?"

When Jack didn't go on, Daniel leaned in.

"Look, you'll have to work with me here. The whole talk-to-a-friend thing only works if you – uhm- actually _talk. _So what did you do?"

"Nothing, Daniel. As usual."

This time the linguist just raised a brow.

"It got all quite – emotional. You know, we were talking about Charlie and about – well, us."

"And?"

Jack looked like he wanted to vanish. When he finally went on, Daniel could barely understand what he said.

"She asked me if she could – hug me."

"She asked? For permission?"

"Speaks volumes, doesn't it?"

"Well, what did you say?"

"Nothing, Daniel. She came forth and I kept her at arms length. Like I always had."

"That's – cruel. Why would you do that?"

"Because if I had let her touch me, Daniel, I swear I would have come apart in my ex-living room!"

There was silence. SG1's resident linguist was speechless. After the initial shock he finally found his voice.

"You rejected her because you were scared of your own reaction?"

"Easy on the shrink thing there, Doctor."

Daniel seemed completely unimpressed.

"Uh, I guess she doesn't know that, does she?"

Jack just shook his head. Daniel cleared his throat.

"OK, you _know_ what the solution to this is, right?"

"Go home, have a six pack of beer and forget about it?"

"No."

"That's a shame. Because I'm quite the expert for that."

"Try again?"

The colonel closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a sigh.

"I can't tell her that, Daniel."

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because – what?"

"Because I don't do the – talking thing!"

"You're being chicken."

Jack tried to glare at the younger man but wasn't as convincing as usual.

"Look, Jack, you're a seasoned soldier and probably the most courageous person I know. But when it comes to your personal life you're a coward. Maybe you should look at this like a mission. Gather intel, make a plan and go for it?"

"This isn't a mission we're talking about, Daniel. This is my wife."

Daniel did notice the lack of "ex" in that sentence but choose not to comment on it. His voice was warm when he answered:

"I know, Jack. Obviously you still care for each other. Don't you think she deserves the truth?"

"I'm serious, Daniel, I can't give her the truth. I just can't."

Daniel considered for a moment. Then he stated, disbelief in his voice:

"You are seriously scared."

There was no answer. Very softly he tried again:

"What are you so scared of, Jack?"

"She still holds my heart, Daniel. She's the one person on the planet capable of hurting me more seriously than anyone else."

For the second time this evening Dr. Daniel Jackson was out of words. He swallowed once.

"She might be capable to do that, but do you really think she will?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair.

"She left me, and that almost killed me. I don't think I could take one more blow."

"Could you talk to her if you were sure she doesn't intend to hurt you?"

Jack just looked at his friend.

"You are _not _suggesting _you _should talk to her for me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's – high school!"

Despite the situation Daniel couldn't help but grin at that typical O'Neill line. From the way Jack didn't look at him he could tell his friend was actually considering the suggestion. The fact that he did told Daniel how bad it was. When Jack finally said: "OK", it was so low he almost didn't catch it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hi. My name is Daniel Jackson. I work with Jack."

"Uh – hi! Yeah, I remember you from the hospital. Has Jack sent you?"

"Well, in a way..."

"What, he's too much of a coward to come talk to me himself?"

"Sara, please, could I come in for a moment?"

She moved a few steps to let him in. After she had closed the door Daniel went on:

"Actually that's quite close to the truth."

Sara just raised her eyebrows and led him to the living room. They sat down, and Daniel said:

"Look, he called me after he had left here earlier today."

"He did? Why?"

"Why? Well, because he was upset I guess, he needed someone to talk, unlikely as that seems, and here I am trying to be a good friend."

Sara seemed to shrink.

"I guess that's a good thing."

"Pardon?"

"When he was here I realized he didn't have a single soul in the whole world to talk to about what had happened, and I felt that was a horrible thing for anyone to go through. Apparently he has someone now, and that's a good thing."

"Well, I guess it is. Although it's a hell of a task to actually _make_ him talk."

Sara chuckled.

"I bet it is."

"OK, so what I'm trying to say is he's really scared."

"Of what?"

"Of you, Sara."

"He's scared of _me_?"

"To the bone."

"But why?"

"Because obviously you still have some power over him. He's afraid you might hurt him."

He didn't say 'again', but Sara could hear it as clearly as if he had.

"Oh my god."

She covered her face with her hands. Without removing them she went on:

"I don't mean to do him harm! I just wish he would talk to _me _for once!"

Finally she lowered her hands and looked at Daniel.

"Where is he?"

"My place."

"Can you take me to him, please?"

Daniel just smiled and nodded.

~o0o~

"Jack? I'm home."

The colonel looked up at Daniel from the couch.

"What did she say?"

Very softly he answered:

"She's here, Jack."

"What? But -"

Daniel stepped out of the way to let Sara in and retreated.

She made a few steps towards him and sat on the edge of the couch.

"Hey."

Her voice was a little unstable.

"Hey."

"Can we talk about what happened today?"

"Sure."

"OK, so...I was hurt when you wouldn't let me hug you, but I really shouldn't have expected anything from you. _I _hurt _you _back then. Why would you want to be close to me again. When you held me in the hospital hallway, the way you spoke to me there, I thought – but probably that was just because I was so upset and you were trying to comfort me. I shouldn't have assumed...I never really told you why I left, did I? I wasn't mad at you, for not being there or anything else. Well, maybe I was, but that's not the point. I didn't leave because I had stopped loving you. I left because I just couldn't take it anymore. You didn't talk, you didn't touch me, hell you didn't even look at me anymore. Yes, it's true, I would have needed you. For my own sake as much as for yours I wish you wouldn't have shut me out like that. I wanted to reach out to you so badly, Jack."

Afraid it might sound like an accusation, he deliberately kept his voice as soft as he could:

"Why didn't you?"

"I tried, Jack. But you didn't even notice me. I just didn't have enough energy to work through your defenses. If you had let me through that armor of yours – if you'd given me just a little sign...I wasn't strong enough, Jack."

There were tears in her eyes, and the lump in his throat grew.

After what felt like a long time she looked at him almost shyly.

"Are you OK?"

"No."

He sat up straighter and gave her a small smile.

"I'm shaken and off-balance, but I'm also grateful, and I'm relieved."

She reached out again, this time just touching his face with her fingertips.

"You know, I guess I'm glad that other guy came waltzing into my life."

She smiled at his irritated look.

"In a way, that brought _you_ back into my life."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Yes, Jack, it is. At least for me. I don't know about you though. You were so quick to agree to the divorce -"

He went from exhausted to furious in an instant.

"Wait a minute! _You _left _me! You _wanted to be divorced. I just went along with your plan. It was what you wanted, and I didn't want to be an asshole. And now it's my fault that I didn't try harder? Were you expecting me to fight for you?"

"Oh come on, you know I always hated those kind of games. But wasn't it convenient? That I left, so you didn't have to deal with me? With my grief and my pain and my tears?"

His voice was back to soft again, but his words cut anyway:

"Maybe you were relieved, too. Didn't have to put up with my silence and my drinking anymore."

They moved away from each other, not knowing what to say.

It was Jack who spoke first, his eyes on the floor.

"I couldn't let you hug me because I was too sore. I just knew I couldn't keep my composure if you held me like that."

She moved closer to him again and made him look at her. He resisted for a moment, but then he gave in. It almost undid her to see the emotion in his eyes.

"You don't have to keep your composure, Jack. At least not for my sake. God I wish you'd trust me enough to let go. There was a time when you did. But I guess you're right to be cautious. I can't even begin to imagine how much I must have hurt you back then."

He didn't respond to that, but after a while he asked her with an almost-smile:

"You still want that hug?"

She didn't answer. She just pulled him in an embrace and held him, and he felt like he did come apart. But it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

~o0o~

**So what do you guys think, should they get back together?**


End file.
